


Asymmetry

by gnostic_heretic



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Body Image, Body Worship, Erotica, Gender Dysphoria, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Oral Sex, Reunion Sex, Scars, Trans Male Character, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 07:59:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15408537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnostic_heretic/pseuds/gnostic_heretic
Summary: We are the same, Tolys used to say, and he was right, and Feliks knew it to be true.





	Asymmetry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Antiaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antiaris/gifts).



> If anyone is not familiar with my headcanons, don't panic! Check out my previous fic [Song of Laumė](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15231237) for context of part two. Enjoy!

I.  
It's a hot, humid midsummer night, and the heat of the moment has set Lithuania and Poland's hearts ablaze, when just a few hours earlier they ran away to Poland's bedroom, hands entwined and kissing each other's cheeks, lips, necks, until they ended up tangled on the bed, a warm and sweaty mess on the clean, embroidered sheets and pillows.  
Their breath has become erratic, and so has the pulse of their heart, beating frantically with each kiss, feverish as Tolys moves his lips from Feliks' neck, to his mouth, to his neck again, and back to his mouth, this time teasing with his tongue, sweet like honey; and Feliks, delighted, parts his own lips just for him, only for his beloved.  
It's wonderful, wonderful until he can feel his hand on his neck, moving down and resting on his chest, a gentle caress, and then pushing, _fondling_ —

Feliks breaks the kiss suddenly, and Tolys notices that his hands are shaking. Again.  
It's not the first time, and Feliks feels his cheeks burning up, unsure how to feel. Ashamed. Disgusted. _Disgusting_.  
Tolys takes his hand, slowly circling his thumb on the palm, to get him to relax.  
"Do you want to stop?"  
Feliks shakes his head. "No, I don't want to stop, it's just..."  
"Just what?"  
"Just, I want you so bad... I want you almost too much. Let me touch you instead. It's not you, it's _me_ —"  
Tolys frowns at his answer. "What about you?"  
"You know," Feliks says, his lip trembling, "you _know_ what. About me."  
He closes his knees almost instinctively, and he turns away, avoiding Tolys' gaze.  
"I know, but I'm the same. _We_ are the same."  
"No. It's not the same."  
" _Kochanie_ ," Tolys whispers with a sigh, and leaves a kiss on his flushed cheek, "take your clothes off."

Feliks blushes even more, his face hot as a kettle of boiling water. "What? I'm—"  
He can't even finish the sentence that Tolys is kissing him again, slowly and passionate, and he feels his knees going weak, and his body getting warm, _hot, almost liquid_ —  
Tolys looks at him. There's not a hint of hesitation in his eyes. "Trust me," he says.  
And Feliks does, he turns his back to him, and slowly starts removing his clothes. He's never been naked in front of anyone before— not like this, at least. And he's never felt this vulnerable, exposed.  
His tights slip away in a moment, the luscious and smooth feeling of silk lingers on his legs. His tunic is a little more tricky, the buttons get stuck, and his sweaty fingers feel soft and slippery like butter as he tries to undo them.  
When he's down to his undergarments, he freezes.  
"Liet, I can't do this after all."  
His husband isn't looking into his eyes, though; he's looking at his body, and Feliks almost wants to disappear.  
_Please, don't do that— don't look at me!_  
As if he reads his thoughts, Tolys' gaze— he could swear it gets more and more intense, dark.  
_Trust me_ , he said; and Feliks decides to trust him, as he pulls him down, back on the soft linen blankets of his bed.

Tolys whispers sweet, sweet words into his skin as he kisses him, everywhere he can reach, from his neck to his shoulder to the tip of his fingers. He can feel his breath, hot and humid in the hot and humid air, the way he sometimes pulls, bites, leaving marks all over him— red, swollen, sore...  
His hands are delicate as he undoes the bandages on his chest, untying the knot on the side.  
Feliks feels the weight of his breasts falling down, and his hands trembling again, his heart heavy.  
Tolys cups them gently with his hands, as if he just read his mind, as if— _I love you_ , he says, _you're so handsome, my love_ , he calls him.  
He's not even doing anything, and yet, Feliks can't help but moan.  
_My own, gorgeous angel_ — and he knows Lithuania does not believe in angels, even, and yet—  
His head is in a feverish haze, he cannot think straight; he can see Tolys kneeling in front of him, but it feels like a daydream, a sweet mirage. He kisses his ankles, lingering, gently caressing his leg as he moves up, all the way to his knees, to his inner thighs.

" _Liet, no—_!"  
Tolys stops immediately, and he looks at Feliks, concerned.  
"Is this not good?"  
Feliks blushes. _Is it?_  
"No, no, I mean— the opposite, this is _too_ good. So good that I'm scared..."  
Tolys leaves another kiss, closer to his crotch, and it makes him shiver. "What scares you, exactly?"  
"That I'm going to like it so much, and I will never want you to stop..."  
"That's not something bad."  
Feliks gulps. "And," he says, his voice breaking slightly, "that you're not going to like _me_ as much as I like you."  
He feels so embarrassed when Tolys smiles at him, and leaves another kiss on his body, right over his undergarments. "You're kidding, right? I love you. _Everything_ — please, Feliks, say my name..."  
His kisses are getting deeper, and the pressure leaves Feliks longing for more, more. " _Tolys_..."  
With a moan, he pulls the fabric to the side, and buries his head between Feliks' thighs.  
The feeling is so strong, strange, good that Feliks wants to scream.  
Tolys' tongue is hot on hot, wet on wet as it slowly circles his clit, and Feliks is melting, letting the waves of pleasure drift him far, far away from reality, from there and now, in a world where it's just the two of them, as they are, free to be whole and in love without fear, guilt, shame.  
And when he finally feels so close, Tolys pulls away, leaving him soaked and sore and so needy for more. "Ah, I think this is enough," he says, with a mischievous smile on his face, "I'll go get— I'll go get _that_ , if you want—"  
" _Oh god, yes!_ Please."  
Feliks watched as Tolys' jaw drops at his enthusiasm, so _unexpected_ , and he smiles. "But first, let me do something for you, too..."

* * *

 

II.

Sprawled on the bed is Lithuania, his face so red, his curly brown hair tumbling down behind his ears, and Poland remembers, how long has it been since they had last been together like this?  
Two boys in a field, in a garden, in his secluded room in the castle; but also in the clean, cool waters of a river, and in the kitchens, as they snuck in to steal some bread—  
But that was the past, it was so long ago. It feels like a memory, like a half-faded dream.  
What he sees now is him and Tolys, two men, changed by hardships, by centuries of separation. And even so, how come is it that their bodies fit so well, almost perfectly?  
There's a wonderful symmetry to their groins as he straddles his lap, never breaking contact with his eyes, observing as Tolys' gaze rolls further, further down.  
_Ah, is this a déjà-vu?_  
Feliks stops rocking his hips to lean down and kiss his neck, and he playfully teases the edge of his shirt, pulling it up— and it is then that Tolys stops him, his hand shaking as he had never felt it before. It makes Feliks' heart skip a beat.  
"Is everything alright?"  
"No."  
"Should I stop?"  
"No, no, _please_ — I want you. I want you so bad, Felek, but... let me touch you instead."  
Feliks is puzzled. As far as he can remember, Tolys never had an issue with nakedness, with his own nudity, or not to the same extent that he did.  
Lithuania was born free; free of the shackles of purity and morality that he had been imposed, or maybe, that he had imposed on himself. _A body is a body, a human is a human, and we are all humans on this earth: a heart that beats and lungs and blood and bones. The rest is superfluous, superficial,_ he used to say.  
But that was in the past, right? And now, he had seen—  
_Ah, that's right._  
With a clumsy movement Feliks dismounts his lap, and sits down next to him on the bed. Suddenly, he is conscious of his own nudity— and he feels too the need to cover up, holding a pillow in front of his torso. _Like Adam and Eve, chased from heaven..._

"Tolys, is this because of your back?"  
His question is one that Tolys evidently had not expected. He looks at him like he has so many questions of his own to ask, now, but instead he bites his lower lip intently, intently looking away.  
Feliks traces the shape of his mouth, and a drop of blood smears on his thumb.  
"I'm so sorry, _kochanie_. I saw it once— you were taking a bath. I did not mean to spy on you, ah, I thought it would be alright—"  
Tolys does not respond. Instead, he takes his hand and kisses his fingers, each one of them. With his own touch, he leads Feliks on his hips, under his shirt.  
"Promise me you won't say anything," he whispers, his voice trembling.  
"I promise."

Tracing his body is like looking at a map of what their lands are now. So familiar, and yet so different; he does not remember Tolys' bones being so prominent, nor his flesh being so tough. So many years apart, and yet, the shape of his belly button is the same, and Feliks finds it so oddly comforting. So oddly _human_.  
When Tolys' hand moves up, though, something does not match his memory at all.  
The jagged scars run across his chest, raw and hard and hot.  
Blood-stained soil on a battlefield, a mark that Feliks does not know, does not remember.  
_Is this another battle wound? But no, it couldn't be—_

When they were younger, when they finally got to _know_ each other in that sense, when Tolys undressed for him and he first saw him, Feliks had felt like he was looking in a mirror for the first time.  
Of course, he had stared at himself in the mirrors of his room many times before, sometimes for hours on end; and yet, the unfamiliar reflection had never felt right, in the way that Tolys' body had felt in that moment. _We are the same_ , Tolys used to say, and he was right, and Feliks knew it to be true.  
But now where the shape of his chest had been there is nothing but scars, hardened bits of flesh, almost gory in the detail— the symmetry has been broken, once and forever.  
And what should one say, in a moment like this?  
Feliks had promised not to say anything. Feliks _chose_ not to say anything.  
Instead, he kisses his lover's lips. A small peck, simple in its complicity.

_He's perfect_ , he thinks, and he knows he was wrong, he was so wrong.

Then and now, they were never the same.

But isn't that what love is all about, anyway?

His lips are trembling when he breaks the kiss, he feels his emotions overflowing, the waves of his pulse turning into a tide, a seastorm. In Lithuania's eyes he sees the answer to his anxieties and his anticipation.

  
_I love you_ , Tolys says, and he smiles for him as he takes off his shirt.

**Author's Note:**

> This was so hard to write, but... I did it? I'm so glad I could get it off my chest, and if anyone other than me will read and enjoy it, that is enough to make me so, so happy. ;u; Thank you so much for reading this far!


End file.
